Finally Asleep
by FallenCrimsonStar
Summary: Gaara is dreaming as the Akatsuki remove the Shukaku from him


FINALLY ASLEEP

_What is this? What am I feeling? Anger, hatred and paralysing fear; how can I feel them all, and at the same time? How can this be real? What is real? Blue sand, swaths of light and colour in my eyes blind me. They flit about my sight and dance about in shadow. Am I even human? Am I even real?_

_Shukaku._

_That heartbeat, it isn't mine. The blood on my hands; it isn't mine. The death on my mouth, the taste of blood that isn't mine – is this what being alive means? The blue sand swirls and flutters again to taunt me, and I remember that day in the forests outside Konoha. Why had I been so certain, why did his blood provoke me so? It had tasted like death; so many deaths with no sensation they had ever been alive. No, this is not life. I was being torn apart and sewn back together. This was agony; a pain that stole my breath, and told me my death was upon me._

_Shukaku._

_That heartbeat - it is a distant knell now. It is moving away from me steadily, like the foghorn of a ship leaving port. But still the anger, hatred and fear of what was being done hounded me. I am possessed by a demonic desire to break free and kill, one with the animal, yet so calm; a composed centre that had always been inside me. It was the beast; it was the animal._

_Shukaku._

_A reflection of myself glares at me hungrily. Was I really that terrifying? Had that been the face of evil that my people feared for so long? He stares at me with those pale, green malicious eyes and I cannot pull myself away. He is the herald of my death, an image that has tainted me for all of my life; a meaningless end to my short and tortured life. _

_Shukaku, where are you? Is the demon even here?_

Gaara was vaguely aware that he was flat on his back and in pain. His life blood was leaving his body; all that concerned Gaara was that a part of him, a part that he had both feared and embraced his entire life was being torn away from him. They wanted it intact, but the vessel had out lived its purpose. They were like giddy children on Christmas Eve.

It was like, when you're so desperate to get at the present inside that the wrapping paper is ripped away without a thought to preserving it for future use. It was no longer needed. He felt naked; a sandstone in human form that was exposed and hollow inside. The moans from his mouth went ignored, as the whimpering of some mangy dog. Tears did not flow; only blood flowed, but blood was not real, not to someone who could never get hurt — not to someone who could never feel pain.

But this sensation hurt. This was pain. This was torture. So where was its end, if this was his? And with that last thought, he drifted into a deep, restless sleep. He dreamt of his mother. He dreamt of his father, and his siblings. And he dreamt of Yoshimaru. Rainbows of black, white and grey, and a sea of emptiness; he had never felt so alive, so _real_. In these dark moments and with his final breath he knew that he would soon be free of all the pain, all the suffering. And then quite suddenly, Gaara could no longer feel his body.

Dazed, confused and feeling _weird_, he looked down. As light as air, he was hovering over himself, looking down at the pale, limp body that he had once called his own: it looked so surreal from up here. It was funny to him now, how he suddenly felt no attachment to it whatsoever. It was the strange pulling sensation that drew his attention now. It radiated indescribable warmth, provoking an irresistible urge to forget where he had been and focus on where he was going instead.

It wasn't light or dark, but he was being summoned _somewhere_, and he wondered if this was some sort of spirit world. His people believed in demons and white beings, but this was something different, like the grey area of the rainbow in his dream; a Netherworld void.

Gaara was no longer afraid, but he didn't want to keep going. The urge to continue was overpowering, but the part of him that was still human knew it was not his time.

He knew that if let this summons continue then he would never return to Suna or to his siblings, and he so wanted to. Kankuro, Temari: they would be searching for him, chasing down the Akatsuki. Were they dead now too?

But all of Suna was like his family now, he cared about them all, and they had embraced his rise to Kazekage. They were reason enough to fight this lethargic desire to just give up, and to let the Akatsuki do what they need to do. But his reason for existence was so much more. There were people who cared about him, at long last, and again, he remembered that day outside of Konoha.

Naruto.

Gaara owed him so much; owed the leaf. He could not leave this life without repaying that debt. He had already died today; there was little else to fear. He tried to fight, to push aside his attackers, but could only manage a low toned groan of pain. In the end, this was all he could muster. Why?

And quite suddenly, Gaara of the Sand could feel again. It wasn't pain. It was the rush of warmth from Chakra coursing through his body. His body; jerked downward, toward the earth, he could feel it again. So this was life. It had questioned him, mocked him and tortured him, but it had returned to him. In those few moments, before he opened his eyes to find what awaited him, Gaara could not help himself. He felt at peace.


End file.
